


Like the Winter Needs the Spring

by antimorston



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Adopted Children, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Established Relationship, Family, Gen, M/M, fuck your period typical homophobia, there isnt necessarily......Open And Explicit Acceptance but theres no danger, title from an america song
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-06-25 02:26:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19736476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antimorston/pseuds/antimorston
Summary: Arthur and Charles want to start a family.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> it's been a Long, Long time since i've written anything long term so bear with me y'all

“Charles.” 

Hands were on his bare shoulders, warm and rough against his skin. 

“Charles, wake up.”

He yawned, groggy from the long night’s sleep. Safe living had made him soft, able to drift in and out of sleep, and he loved it more than he could ever say. “M’up,” he said, twisting his head to kiss the back of one of Arthur’s hands. 

“More up,” he insisted. He sounded urgent, but not _emergency_ urgent, so Charles took his time opening his eyes to meet the gorgeous blue ones he loved so much. 

“M’up,” he said again, unsurprised by Arthur’s proximity. Arthur leaned in even closer, his features starting to blur, before he spoke again. 

“I need a kid.” 

Charles chuckled and lifted his head the remaining few inches to kiss him chastely. “Okay.” 

“I’m serious,” Arthur said, his voice a low whine. 

“I know.” He looked up at his lover calmly. He knew what Arthur wasn’t saying. That though the wound that Eliza and Isaac’s deaths left was still aching, he was ready to put forth the effort to be a father. That they were settled now. That he would be there for the kid, there would be no harm that could ever come to them. Charles looked into Arthur’s eyes, the cool blue that had seen too much, and felt the words that Arthur didn’t say. He continued so that Arthur didn’t have to, his tone understanding. “I would love for us to have kids.” 

Arthur held his gaze for a long while before he sighed. He let himself collapse on Charles’s chest, face buried in his neck. “I always ride past an orphanage for black kids when I’m in town, and the same kids never seem to leave.” Charles reached for his hand, which he gladly took, squeezing tight. “I think we can raise one of them, give them love in a _civilization_ that doesn’t love them. I seen how you and Lenny, and other black folk, are treated, and I know we can’t shield these kids from that, but I want us to help how we can. And if we get a kid of our own out of it, then that just makes it all the better, right?” 

Charles made sure he was finished speaking before he lifted their hands to press his lips to Arthur’s knuckles. “Your heart is too damn big,” he said after what felt like hours. He used his free hand to lift Arthur’s head, drawing him into a kiss. “But I wouldn’t have you any other way,” he finished when they paused for a breath. 

“I love you,” Arthur whispered against his mouth. 

“I love you, too,” Charles answered. 

Later, Arthur cooked breakfast, eggs and toast, with the energy of a much younger man. He slid one plate across the table to Charles before settling down with his own, his eyes searching around as if taking inventory. 

“What do we need to do to the house to adopt a kid?” He asked out of nowhere, mouth full of toast. 

“Make sure they have a bed, organize the kitchen, and take our hunting materials off of the table,” Charles answered, eyeing the package of herbivore bait next to his plate. 

Arthur swallowed the bread hard before his mouth twisted into a smile. “Should we get started?” 

“Once you eat those eggs.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and picked up his fork. “Alright, alright.” 

* * *

“Do we need to do anything else?” Arthur asked, wiping sweat from his brow. 

“Nah,” Charles said. He eyed the interior of their main barn, noting the empty stalls and saddle stands, sitting there almost as if waiting for a kid’s horse to use it. 

“Then we’re ready to go down there?” The cowboy’s voice raised almost imperceptibly, the nervousness settling an uncomfortable twang into it. 

“Well, I’m not sure if we should go down there together.” Charles bit at his lip, watching the cogs turn in Arthur’s head before his mouth opened slightly and realization dawned across his face. 

“Of course,” he said. He walked over to his best friend, his lover, and drew him in for a kiss. “Get us a good one, huh?” He joked when they parted. 

“That could be all of them,” Charles argued. 

“Exactly.” 

Charles rolled his eyes and kissed him again. “I’ll be back soon.” 

“You’d better be.” 

Charles left the barn, giving Arthur one last glance before he whistled for Kitchi and swung a blanket across her back. He mounted and gave her a pat on the neck before leading her from the barn and toward town.

The late morning sun bore down on him, turning his sweat into dried salt on his skin. He rode with anxiety in his gut, slowing once he reached the outskirts to start nodding hellos at everyone that he and Arthur, but mostly Arthur, had befriended when they moved to the area. He wasn’t _trying_ to stall, but the nervousness gnawed at him. Arthur was cheerful and resilient and caring. He would be a great father, even if he didn’t quite understand everything that these kids would deal with, but Charles always thought himself meant to be alone, with Arthur his only exception. A kid would change all of that. Not that he would mind having someone new tilting his world upside down, it had happened once and that turned out well enough. He was just scared. Scared of what would happen. Would he be a good father? Sure, he would make food they liked and make sure they had dry clothes, but _what if?_

The doubts plagued him for the entire trek across town. Still, despite being so, _so scared,_ he had an energy thrumming in his veins that he only really felt when Arthur, mid sentence, would lace their fingers together unexpectedly. It was a feeling of yearning, belonging, and excitement, all bundled into one mass of emotion. 

He realized that it may be the excitement of a true and real _family_ _,_ one that was woven together not by necessity but by love. He would love this kid, he knew that much. So _why_ was he still so goddamn nervous? 

He decided to just suck it up, get the kid, and start a family, something he had never thought himself capable of doing. Before he let himself fall into another rabbit hole of doubt, he stopped Kitchi in front of the orphanage, arriving just in time to not psyche himself out last second. He led her just off of the sidewalk, left her unhitched, and made his way across the creaky porch to the door. It was cracked open, with no signs indicating that he had to stay out, so he pushed it the rest of the way open with a gentle hand. 

When Charles walked in, a young black woman greeted him. She wore a bandana around her forehead, the hair behind it fashioned in long braids down her back. “What can I do for you?” She asked, smiling at him with cheerful but tired eyes. 

“I’m lookin’ to adopt,” he said, suddenly feeling a bit sheepish. He rushed to explain himself, though he knew he needn’t. “I’ve finally settled down and I want to give one of these kids a good life.” 

The woman smiled a little brighter at that, turning to look at a list of some kind. “Any kind of kid in particular?” She asked. 

“Whoever has been here the longest.” 

She bit her lip. “I have two, a brother and a sister. They’ve been here for a few years, but-” She stopped, eyeing Charles. “-no one wants to adopt siblings together, and if they do, these two are too much of a handful for them.” 

Charles smiled, thinking of how excited Arthur was going to be when he returned. Arthur loved kids, and he wouldn't mind a challenge. “I’m ready for a handful.” _We’re_ ready for a handful. 

“Are you sure?” She was obviously wary as she picked up the list, her eyes trailing toward the bottom.

Charles wondered how many times they had been adopted. His stomach turned. He was going to give these two children a home, ‘handful’ be damned. “Yes, Miss.” 

She took in a breath. “They really do need a nice home,” she said. “I have to make sure your house is fit for them first.” There was a pause in which she watched his reaction, but she hadn’t seen anything bad apparently, because she left it at that. 

“Of course.” He leaned back on his heels, wondering if he should mention the fact that he lived with another man. As she set the list back down and took off her apron, he decided to bring it up on the way to the ranch. “I don’t live too far off,” he said as they exited through the front door. “Just outside of town.” She nodded and made her way to the side of the building, where a dark colored Shire stood in the shade. She unhitched it and mounted, riding over to where Charles was waiting with Kitchi. 

“So, these two, Dinah and Cato,” she started, letting him lead the way. “They’re around ten.” 

He nodded, trying to picture the kids in his mind. Were they tall? Pudgy cheeks? 

“I can’t wait to meet them,” he said honestly. 

She laughed, short and bitter. “You’re the first.” 

A swell of anger rose in his chest at the implication. He was going to _love_ these kids. If he and Arthur could go from outlaws on the run to waking up together every morning in a real bed, then they could do raise two hell-raisers. Arthur had truly been the one to raise John, the ultimate hell-raiser, to be honest. Charles's mouth went dry. _Arthur._ “My...friend...would be the second.” He broached the topic awkwardly, biting at the inside of his cheek. “We live together. I was planning on introducing y’all when we arrived.” He was glad he was in front of her, for he was blushing hard. He also didn’t want to see her reaction to his statement. 

“Is he okay with…” she trailed off as if still choosing her words, but Charles answered before she had to finish. 

“It was his idea, actually.” 

He heard a surprised hum from behind him. “Oh?” 

“Yeah.”

She was silent after that, so he elaborated to avoid it becoming awkward. “I wanted to be the one to adopt them because we thought that a white man coming to a black orphanage was suspect, considering how whites are.” 

She snorted at that. “Fair enough.”

“But he’s got a big heart. He wanted to adopt a kid that may not get adopted otherwise, a kid that’s had a rough go.” He knew he was rambling and he was verging on outing them, but this young lady seemed awful nice, so he wondered just how bad it would be if she were to find out. He pulled Kitchi onto the well beaten path through their piece of land, the orphanage worker following behind. “Just ahead,” he said. 

Arthur was out front chopping wood when they rode up. Hearing the hooves on the packed dirt, he turned to wave. The axe dangled loosely in his grip for a few moments before he wedged it into the stump and made his way over. 

“Howdy,” he greeted, tipping his hat at the worker. “I’m Arthur.” 

“Nela,” she responded. Charles’s eyes went wide. He hadn’t introduced himself yet. 

“I’m Charles,” he said, earning a laugh from both of the others. 

“Ain’t introduced yourself?” Arthur asked, standing between the horses. 

“Too busy talkin’ about the kids,” he responded with a wink. 

Arthur’s face lit up as if he had forgotten the errand Charles was running, though he most certainly hadn’t. “Oh!” He said after a moment. Charles watched Nela look between them, her eyes calculating. His heart caught in his throat, apprehension flickering in his veins. 

“She said she needed to take a look around before we could adopt the kids.” Arthur’s eyebrows shot up, but Charles didn’t know if it was because he had said “kids” _plural_ or because he had slipped up and said “we”. Fuck.


	2. Chapter 2

“So you two are both going to be doing the adopting?” Nela asked, startling the men. 

Arthur was the first to regain his composure. “No, Charles is doing the adopting legally, but we’re both planning on raising them. Takes a village, y’know?” His voice barely faltered, even at the beginning, and Charles felt some of his apprehension melt at how well he handled it. She nodded in understanding. 

“Call for June,” Charles said, sensing the subject wasn’t going to be pursued further, “it’ll be easier to show Miss Nela around on horse.” Arthur whistled as Charles turned to Nela, giving her a smile. “Might as well make this fun,” he said, “seein’ as we have to do it anyway.” She smiled back, the spark in her calm eyes reminding Charles of the younger members of the Van der Lindes, back when the tension wasn’t high. 

“Sure thing, Mister Charles.” 

He laughed at that, tightening his hands on Kitchi’s reins. “You ride much?” 

“This old girl’s mostly for hauling the kids around,” she said with a shrug, “but I’ve been known to take her on the trails.” June trotted up at that point, nickering quietly as Arthur climbed on. Their border collie, named Colter after the settlement in which they had shared their first kiss, was right on her heels. 

Arthur smiled and motioned down to him. “That’s Colter, he’s the sweetest dog you’ll ever meet. So long as you aren’t breaking in, that is.” Colter’s ears pricked up and his tail started wagging as he noticed Nela, then he made his way over to say hello to Kitchi before turning back toward the house. 

Charles laughed and turned to Nela. “He’s nice, but he waits until you come up to him first.”

Nela nodded and clicked her tongue after Colter, earning another wag of his tail. She smiled. “Seems like a good dog.” 

“He is,” Arthur answered. “Now, time for the grand tour.” Arthur nudged the beautiful white Arabian forward and swept his arms out to the sides in a flourish. He let Charles take the lead while he spoke, narrating almost comically. “As you can see, there is a patch of forest here on our left. Rattlesnakes have long since slithered off, because Charles here is a holy figure when he’s got a bow.” Charles chuckled and turned the group toward the pasture, where their rescued horses grazed peacefully. Arthur continued his narration happily, answering Nela’s questions and describing activities each area could offer to the kids in a chipper voice. When they reached the house after finishing their lazy loop around the property, Arthur showed Nela where she could hitch her horse and dismounted, allowing June to trot back to the pasture with Kitchi. They entered the house through the back door, introducing her properly to Colter before showing her through the living room and kitchen, then into the spare bedroom that Jack had used in the past while visiting his uncles. A bed sat near a large wardrobe, a heavy quilt folded meticulously at the foot.

“We would get a second bed for the other kid, or add on another room,” Charles said as Nela looked around. Arthur whipped his head toward Charles, giving him a wide-eyed stare, but was met simply with a “we’ll talk about it later” expression. 

Arthur nodded and turned to look in Nela’s direction. “There ain’t nothin’ we wouldn’t do for these kids,” he said, sincerity dripping from his voice. 

Nela grinned. “You haven’t even met them yet, Arthur.” 

“Don’t need to.” 

Nela met Charles’s eyes, her own shining. He smiled. _Told you,_ he mouthed. She bit at the inside of her lip and shook her head good naturedly. She then turned fully toward them, raising her hand for Charles to shake.

“Well,” she said, “looks like Dinah and Cato will have a good home here.” She offered her hand to Arthur next, and he took it in both of his, smiling from ear to ear. “Come back to the orphanage with me and we can get the papers sorted, then you two will be able to bring them to their new home in the morning,” she finished. 

Arthur’s gaze softened at the word _home_. “Thank you, Miss.” 

“Yes,” Charles agreed. “Thank you.” 

Nela nodded her head toward the hallway. “The deed isn’t done yet, boys.” 

She turned and opened the door, stepping into the hallway with Colter directly behind her, begging for a pat on the head. Charles took her lapse in attention as an opportunity to abruptly pull Arthur close to him. “We’re getting _two_ ,” he whispered before Arthur was kissing him, frantic. They broke apart after less than a moment, leaving both of them wanting more as they followed Nela down the hall with their hands intertwined loosely. 

The ride back to town was silent, but not awkwardly so. Charles signed the papers he needed to sign as Arthur leaned against the door frame, his arms crossed loosely in front of him. 

Nela smiled as she gathered the papers up, glancing between the two men. 

“Would you like to meet them today?” She asked. Both Charles and Arthur looked up, eyes wide. 

“ _Yes,_ ” Arthur said, his mouth acting before his brain could think it over. Not that the answer would have changed in the slightest. 

Nela chuckled. “Alright then, follow me.” 

They were led through the twisting halls of the orphanage until they reached the back door. A few kids sat in the backyard playing with each other, but there were two, a boy and a girl, sitting together on a bench quietly. 

“Dinah, Cato,” Nela called, prompting them to look up. “Come here, please.” 

The boy stood first, turning back to watch his sister follow. He was short, shorter than Jack was at ten, with dark eyes and darker hair, which was shaved close to his head. His sister was taller, with similar features but longer hair in a style similar to Nela’s. They both had slim faces, stick thin arms, and near threadbare clothes. 

Charles could see the way their expressions darkened as they neared the three adults. His heart twisted up in his chest, thinking back to Nela’s implications just two hours before. When they got to the porch, Nela directed them back inside, to a small room with a couple couches. 

The kids sat down on one, as if it was routine, holding their hands clasped in their laps. Charles sat on the other, while Arthur hung back and leaned against the wall. Charles could _feel_ the anxiety radiating off of him, his shoulders rigid and his knees bent slightly, as if he was ready to dash at any moment. The silence was tense until Nela cleared her throat, standing between the two couches. 

“This is Charles,” she said, pointing over at him. “He’s adopting you two, and it’s going to stick this time.” She moved over to crouch in front of the twins, getting at their eye level. “I _promise_.” 

Dinah, the girl, was pouting as she looked between Arthur and Charles. “Who’re _you_?” She asked Arthur. Charles turned to watch Arthur pull himself from the wall and smile warily at her.

“I’m Arthur. I live with Charles.” He offered a hand for the girl to take, but he was brushed off. 

“Are you two married?” Cato asked, squinting at Arthur. 

Nela, Charles, and Arthur all seemed to be equally shocked by the question. Nela had just started to reprimand him when Charles smiled over at the young boy. “Not yet,” he answered, deciding that _fuck it_ , _it doesn’t matter now,_ “but adopting kids together is a good step toward that.” Nela turned to face him, her mouth still partially forming a word. 

Cato giggled; he was completely unaffected by the adults’ reactions to his question. Charles looked over to see if Arthur was alright and saw him smiling gently as relief flooded his features. There was a softness in his eyes that Charles rarely saw, and it melted his heart. He looked back to the kids and bit at his lip. 

“Do you like horses?” He asked, fishing for a conversation topic to get them at least a little warmed up. 

Dinah and Cato looked at each other, Cato’s eyebrows raised in excitement. He turned to Nela and earned a cheerful nod. His mouth dropped open just slightly, and his eyes turned back to Charles. “Yes,” he declared. Dinah echoed his sentiment, a little more slowly. 

“We have horses at our house,” Arthur said, back at the wall. “But we don’t have ones that would be good for you. Tomorrow, before you come home with us, we can get you your own horses.” 

Cato’s eyes lit up while Dinah’s narrowed. She was suspicious, but Charles wasn’t exactly sure of what. The memory of Nela describing them earlier in the day came back to him. _Handful. Challenge._ He had expected hellions, children who were bouncing off of the walls and foaming at the mouth. He hadn’t expected their challenge to be that at least one of them was withdrawn, anxious. Dinah’s trust was going to be hard to earn, but Charles wasn’t willing to give up. Dinah and Cato both deserved a family who cared for them. 

His mouth was suddenly dry, but he found his voice easily enough. “Dinah, you alright?” 

She turned her gaze upon him, fiery and intense. He held his ground, keeping his eyes on hers. He could see that she was scared by the way she seemed to be sizing him up, eyes just a bit frantic. She said nothing.

“I’ll give you some space,” he offered, not sure what he could do to calm her short of he and Arthur leaving the room entirely. He stood and started to make his way to where Arthur leaned against the wall. They shared a look, understanding and comforting, before Charles joined him. Dinah’s glare had lessened, but that defensiveness didn’t seem like it was going to leave for a long time. Weeks at the least. Months, more likely. Years, _maybe_. 

But he was up for it. _They_ were up for it. Everyone had their issues, he sometimes still had to convince Arthur that he wanted him, Arthur still had to hold him through nightmares that he could never seem to wake from. And Dinah would be no different, they would make her feel at home once she was ready. And _no matter what_ , they wouldn’t send the kids back. 

He looked to where Nela stood, her eyes panicked. He made a motion with his hand, indicating that everything was alright, this hadn’t changed anything. 

“Our house is big enough to let you have as much space as you need, Dinah,” Arthur said from next to Charles, almost startling him. “We just want you two to be comfortable and happy.” 

Nela shifted her gaze to the ex-gunslinger, receiving a calm smile when she met his eyes. 

She nodded ever-so-subtly, then walked to where Dinah and Cato sat. “They’ll be here to get you in the morning,” she said, voice steady. “Can you get your stuff together before bed tonight?” 

The kids nodded and stood, Cato leading Dinah by the hand from the room. Arthur gave them a little wave, receiving only one in return. He sighed once the door had shut behind them, turning to Charles. “Nothing we can’t handle,” he promised, reaching for Charles’s hand. 

Charles took it. “We’re ready for this,” he agreed. He gave a strong squeeze to Arthur’s hand, then let go in favor of turning to Nela. “What time should we come by tomorrow?” 

She was watching them as he asked, her eyes gentle. A shy smile graced her lips as she dipped her head. “Nine would be great,” she said. “And, uh–” She cut herself off, shuffling on her feet. “–it’s nice to see you two being open here. I’ve got a lover myself, but she and I could never do something so brave as–” she stopped again, this time to wave her hand in their direction, “–all of this.” 

Arthur lowered his gaze bashfully, while Charles beamed at her. “We were going to invite you for supper whenever you’d like,” he started, stepping toward her, “but speaking for the both of us, we’d love to extend that invitation to her as well.” 

She smiled, her eyes watering just enough to notice. “Thank you.” 

Charles offered his hand to shake. “No, thank _you_ , Miss Nela. Pleasure meeting you.”

“And you, _Mister Charles_ ,” she answered, taking his hand and shaking it. 

“We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Arthur shook her hand and thanked her as well, though this time he was much more subdued with his shake than he had been back at the ranch. 

They wound their way back to the front doors of the orphanage, Charles unhitching their horses while Arthur jogged around to the side of the building. Charles raised an eyebrow, though he knew exactly what was going on. 

Arthur reappeared a moment later, sugar cubes in hand. 

“Spoiling Biscuit now, too?” Charles asked. He moved to the side to allow Arthur to give their horses treats, but stayed close enough to feel Arthur brush up against him. 

“Yessir,” Arthur answered. He turned to face Charles, standing chest to chest as he smiled. Charles resisted the urge to lean in and kiss the smile off of his lips, but Arthur obviously knew him well enough that he could see straight through the veil of nonchalance. “We’ll be home soon,” he said, almost an offering of retribution for his teasing looks.

“Let’s go, then.” 

Arthur snickered as he scrambled onto June’s bare back. 

It was mid afternoon as they rode out of town, side by side on the dirt trail. 

“I was thinking one of them could get our bed until they each have one,” Charles said as they rode, sidling Kitchi up next to June. His leg brushed against Arthur’s as he continued. “If we get the blankets washed before dinner, they’ll be dry by the time one of the kids needs them.” 

Arthur hummed and nudged Charles with his leg. “No use in washing blankets that ain’t dirty,” he answered after a moment. “We washed them only last week.”

Charles nudged him back, just a little harder. “Let’s dirty them, then,” he suggested, fighting for his expression to remain nonchalant.

“Mister _Smith_ ,” Arthur gasped. At the edge of his vision, Charles could see the near violent blush rising to Arthur’s cheeks, though the cowboy tried to tilt his hat down to hide it. He failed, of course, but the bashful action itself was endearing to Charles in a way that not quite anything else was. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was a little anxious to post the second chapter after the first one, so i’m sorry to post this one with a much wider gap between them!!!

Night fell soon after the blankets had been hung up outside, but Charles knew that sleep would not come easy for either of them. With their bed stripped, they lay together on the bare mattress, a handmade quilt sent from the Marstons draped over them. Arthur propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at Charles with a soft gaze. 

“I can’t believe this is really happenin’,” he murmured. 

Charles lifted his head to catch him in a kiss before settling back against the pillows. “Me neither,” he answered. Arthur leaned over him, chasing his lips. 

“Won’t get to do this much anymore, though,” he noted once he was close enough to kiss again. He didn’t close the distance, so Charles blinked up at him. 

“Who says we won’t?” He smiled, lifting a hand to cradle the side of Arthur’s face. The lamplight washed over his skin and caught him in a warm haze. 

“Two ten year olds say we won’t,” Arthur answered. He leaned into the touch, shifting to sprawl himself over Charles’s chest. “We won’t even have a bed to make lov-”

Charles cut him off with another kiss, chuckling against his lips. “We’ll make sure they both have their own bed by the end of the week,” he said. “But _you_ had to go off and promise them each a horse, so we have to do that first.” 

Arthur pulled away and moved his face into the warmth of Charles’s neck. “About that,” he hummed, “we could get them each a nice foal, have them help raise it.” He pressed a kiss against the hollow of Charles’s collarbone. “They’re orphans, they’re probably already responsible, y’know?” 

Charles moved his hand to thread through the hair on the back of Arthur’s head. “You weren’t.”

“I was a little bastard,” Arthur countered. “You didn’t know me back then, or else you would’ve never fallen in love with all this.” His tongue pressed against the place where he had just kissed, making Charles nearly squirm beneath him. 

“Stop that,” he laughed, grabbing Arthur’s sandy hair and giving a gentle tug. Arthur lifted his head to stare at Charles innocently. 

“Stop what, dear?” 

Charles tugged on his hair again, earning a surprised hum. “You’re still a little bastard.”

Arthur laughed then, warm and full. It was always nice to see him smile and laugh genuinely. They had both spent too much time doing neither.

Charles waited until he was done laughing to draw him in for a kiss. “You’re my favorite bastard, though,” he said when they parted. 

Arthur smiled, teasing but soft. “I love you.” 

Charles pulled him close again, whispering just against his lips. “I love you, too.” 

Arthur sighed contentedly, pulling away from Charles’s lips and smiling. His attention suddenly shifted elsewhere as he stared up at their ceiling. “Or,” he proposed after a few moments, “we could get them each an older horse, nice and calm and experienced.”

Charles hummed, loosening his grip in Arthur’s hair to tangle a few strands around his fingers. “That’s a good idea, love.” 

They ended up falling asleep after that, though they didn’t stay asleep long. Arthur was up at dawn, itching to do something productive, which consequently dragged Charles out of bed right behind him. After the morning chores, they gave all of their horses a good brushing. By the time their rescues were clean, it was just around eight, and June and Kitchi were ready to roll around in the dirt with their friends again. 

Charles convinced Arthur, by a grand stroke of luck, that they could spend the remaining hour taking the scenic route to town. Arthur agreed, and they set off with a wave in the direction of Colter, who was laying on the front porch, ready to watch over while they were gone.

Arthur’s nerves were mostly calmed by the time the pair hitched their horses outside of the orphanage at five until nine, though Charles still wrapped an arm loosely around his waist for a brief moment as they walked in, the subtle embrace hidden by the shadows of the entryway. 

Cato and Dinah sat on a padded bench in the front room, each of them holding a small bag in their hands. Cato gave a wide smile when he saw the men enter, jumping to his feet as Dinah dropped her gaze. 

“Good morning,” Arthur greeted as Cato ran up. He stopped in front of his new adoptive parents, eyes wide. 

“Were you serious about the horses?” He asked, tilting his head back to look inquisitively at Arthur. 

“Yes,” he answered. Thinking, he knelt so Cato didn’t have to crane his neck to talk to him. “We wouldn’t lie to either of you.” 

Cato stared for a few more moments, then broke into a gap-toothed smile. “Thank you!”

Charles felt something shift inside of him, a small feeling that something was off. He blinked. “Of course,” he added on, trying to shake the weird feeling. “You two ready to go?” 

Cato ran back to grab his bag while Dinah stood slowly. Nela appeared from around the corner, smiling at the newly formed family. “Right on time.”

“Didn’t want to disappoint,” Arthur answered. 

She smiled at them, then crouched to face the kids. “You two better be good for Charles and Arthur, now,” she said. It sounded like a routine goodbye, but Charles heard a tone of somberness that he could tell didn’t usually accompany those words. She gave them both hugs, then stood and nodded her head towards the two men. 

“I can carry your bags,” Arthur offered to both of them. Dinah grimaced and held her belongings close to her chest. He smiled at her, warm and careful. “That’s alright, it’s up to you.” Cato was quick to hand his off, though, shoving the satchel-like bag into Arthur’s hands unceremoniously. Arthur took it, then straightened up and turned to leave. Cato followed him toward the door and Dinah trailed behind him. Charles brought up the rear, making sure both of the kids followed Arthur outside. They made it to the horses fine, then Dinah and Cato shared a look. 

“Until you two learn how to ride alone, you’ll be up in the saddle with us,” Charles said, watching Arthur hook Cato’s bag onto the side of his saddle. “One of you will sit with me, and the other will sit with Arthur.” 

Cato scrambled over to June, watching Arthur expectantly. “I’ll ride with you,” he said. 

“Alright then,” Arthur answered. He leaned down to pick Cato up, sliding him over the saddle with ease. “Hold tight to her hair, there, while I get on.” Cato nodded and reached for June’s long white mane, leaning over her neck carefully while Arthur stepped into a stirrup and swung up. “You alright?” He asked when he was settled. Cato sat in front of him, just ahead of the horn. 

“Yep!” Cato answered, turning his head around to smile up at Arthur. 

“Good, now let’s wait for Charles and your sister to get on Kitchi, and then we can go get your horses.” 

Cato’s eyes widened as if he had still expected for Arthur to be lying about that. “Okay!” 

Charles turned his attention from them as Dinah approached Kitchi, her small hands clutching her bag to her chest. “Would you like to carry it or put in on the saddle like Cato’s bag?” 

Her response was to grip it tighter. 

“Sure thing,” he answered, nodding. “Is it alright if I pick you up to get you on Kitchi?” She froze, then looked up at Kitchi’s saddle as if it were one of the peaks in the Grizzlies. After a few moments, she nodded. He moved slowly so as not to spook her as he leaned down. “I’m gonna pick you up under your arms here,” he explained as his hands hooked under her armpits. She stared at him wide-eyed as he lifted her and turned her so she was sitting facing forward in front of Kitchi’s saddle, then climbed up himself. 

“You two ready over there?” Arthur asked, gently prompting June over to where they sat. 

Charles glanced down at Dinah, whose hands were tangled between the straps of her bag and the locks of Kitchi’s mane. “Yeah,” he answered. 

He looked up to see Arthur watching Dinah fidget, his gaze following her hands just as Charles’s gaze had been the moment before. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments, crackling with excitement the way a stormy night sky in New Hanover would crackle with lightning, then Arthur was pulling June’s reigns away from the orphanage. Charles looked back and gave Nela a wave as they left. 

The stable owner, a bulky young man by the name of Miguel, greeted them as they trotted in all but a few minutes later. 

“If it ain’t Misters Morgan and Smith,” he crooned, setting down the brush he had been using to groom a rough looking Andalusian. “What can I do for you two?” He paused, noticing the children eyeing him. “And your additional two?” 

Charles saw the smile on Arthur’s nervous lips, and he relaxed just a bit more. “I adopted our additional two this morning, I wanted to know if you had any horses that would be good for them. You know, older, easy temper, the likes.” 

“You adopted them _today?_ Want to start them out early, huh?” He laughed incredulously, rubbing at the whispers of beard lining his jaw. “I’ll see what I can do. Come with me.” 

He waited for them to dismount and get the kids down before turning and walking away. Arthur, Charles, Dinah, and Cato trailed behind, the kids eyeing the inside of the stable with something akin to awe. 

They made their way around back, where a newer building sat on the edge of the yard. Miguel led them inside, then down the rows of stalls to the far side. “My older horses are here, they ain’t too keen on spending all their time outside like those you’ve taken in.” He waved to the final few rows of stalls, where Charles could see a variety of horses. 

“Dinah, Cato,” Arthur said, “you can each pick yours out.” He urged them on, then he and Charles followed as they stared at the horses with wide eyes. 

“I like this one!” Cato said after a minute. He was watching a blue roan Nokota mare, her face already leaned over the stall door to smell him. Her mane fell in her eyes, causing her to shake her head, and Cato laughed as she nickered. 

“Alright!” Miguel grinned and turned to Arthur and Charles. 

“Once Dinah chooses hers, we’ll bring both of their horses out,” Arthur said, watching Cato stroke the horse’s nose. Miguel nodded and made his way over to put her bridle on. 

Dinah took a while longer, walking between the stalls with a subdued gait. She watched each horse carefully, then moved on to the next. She finally stopped in front of a strawberry roan Ardennes stallion, which was staring calmly down at her. His easy temperament seemed to have already clicked with her anxious one as he leaned in to nuzzle against her outstretched and shaking hand. 

“This one,” she murmured, “I think he likes me.” 

“He does,” Charles assured, stepping forward to get a closer look at the pair. 

Miguel took the two horses from their stalls and the group made their way back to the front stable, where June and Kitchi were waiting patiently as they grazed on a hay bale together. He hitched the two new horses by his register, then looked over to where the kids stood, between Charles and Arthur. “You two can give them names, if you’d like.” 

“If you want to think about it for a little bit, that’s fine too,” Arthur added, gaze falling to his children, “Miguel here is always willing to change their names on the papers.” He threw Miguel a wink, then pulled his wallet from his back pocket. “How much do we owe you?”

Charles pretended not to catch the way both children’s attention snapped to the transaction and their eyebrows shot up when Arthur forked over nearly three hundred dollars. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter four is coming as soon as i get chapter five sorted out :)


	4. Chapter 4

The trip back to the ranch wasn’t difficult; the twins (Charles _assumed_ they were twins, but Nela hadn’t ever said anything to confirm or deny that) had chosen perfectly behaved horses that trailed behind Kitchi and June without even needing the leads hooked to the saddles of June and Kitchi. The nameless horses both had a strong, smooth gait and paid close attention to the two kids as they twisted around in front of the saddles to coo at them. 

Charles and Arthur exchanged a glance, their expressions conveying what their voices didn’t. Every doubt Charles has ever had about being a father briefly dissipated as Arthur smiled at him, warm and oh-so- _very_ loving. The overwhelming amount of _love_ Charles already felt, and knew Arthur felt, about their adopted children was nearly astonishing. As Arthur had said the day before, there truly wasn’t anything that they wouldn’t do for them. Charles returned the smile, a conversation passing between them that Charles didn’t even know if he could form aloud, then they were both facing forward again, on their way back to a home that would be changed forever. 

Going at a pace much slower than usual to accommodate for the extra, and very young, passengers, it took almost half an hour for them to reach the ranch from town. As they trotted up to the stable, Colter greeted them, his tail wagging at his newest friends, humans and equines alike. 

Cato nearly jumped from Arthur’s saddle upon seeing the dog, his mouth stretched into a wide smile. Arthur caught him before he was able to leap down, breathing heavily after being startled in such a way. Charles bit at his lip, watching Arthur start to dismount with one hand held in the air to indicate that Cato needed to wait. Charles dismounted once he knew they were both safely on the ground, helping Dinah down when he was steady. 

“You didn’t tell me you had a _dog_ ,” Cato yelled before taking off like a shot toward the porch. He fell to his knees in front of the old sheepdog, hugging him around his narrow shoulders. 

Arthur led the new horses to the fence of the pasture before he made his way over with Cato’s bag, correcting him once he drew near. “He’s your dog now, too.” 

Dinah stood quietly next to Charles, watching her brother with an emotion Charles couldn’t quite read. “Do you like dogs, Dinah?” He asked, keeping his eyes straight ahead. 

She didn’t look at him either as she answered. “Yes.” Her answer was clipped, signalling the end of that discussion. He nodded and stepped forward into her line of sight, smiling and waving a hand toward the commotion of Cato trying to find Colter’s favorite scratching spot. 

“We can go inside now, if you’d like. I can show you around a bit.” She turned her head to look up at him, eyes flicking over his face analytically. 

“You’ll still show Cato around, right?” She asked the question as if she fully expected The Grand Tour of the Morgan-Smith Homestead to be a one-time show that her brother would miss out on.

“Of course I would,” Charles answered, “however many times he wants to take a tour.” His smile turned more humorous as he moved forward again. “I’ll lead the way.”

By the time they had made it to the porch, Arthur’s eyes were on them. He nodded at the silent message of _no rush, we’re going inside_ passed from Charles, then he looked back down to Cato. Charles pushed the front door open, trying to view the hallway to the back door from a child’s eyes. Dinah glanced around at the small entryway, glancing at the coat rack and the shoe tray placed by the door. A pair of half chaps hung haphazardly on a small hook above the tray, and she squinted at them briefly. 

“Do I have to take my shoes off?” She asked. 

“If it’s more comfortable for you,” he answered, leaning down to pull off his boots. He got a good look of her shoes, then, and saw a massive tear in the side of her left boot. His mind drifted to the tiny bag she clutched in her hands, and he knew that that was her only pair. “When we buy more clothes for you two, we’ll get you shoes too,” he said, still staring at her shoes. They looked too small for her as well, and the soles were worn nearly to nothing. 

When he straightened back up, her eyes were on him. “Why do we need new clothes?” She asked defensively. Charles nearly startled, his mouth suddenly dry. “Are they too _ragged_ for you?”

“I just thought you would be more comfortable in clothes of your own,” he said as she stared. “Those look like they're second hand.” They most definitely were, as her dress was three sizes too big on her, and one sock went up to her knee while she appeared to be missing the second. 

She bristled, but said nothing. 

“And,” he continued, trying to explain himself, “I didn’t know if you two had much clothing, Arthur and I just want to make sure you’re happy.” 

“My clothes are just fine,” she said. 

“I agree.” Charles bit his tongue, cursing himself for having already broken their first promise to the kids: no lies. He thought quickly, trying to come up with something to say. “But we’ll have to at least get you a pair of pants for horse riding, it makes that a lot easier.” 

She seemed to calm at the rational reasoning for buying new clothes, nodding slowly. “Okay.” 

“There are a lot of options at the tailor, we’ll let you and Cato pick out whatever you’d like.” He started walking through the entryway and pointed down the hallway on their right. “There are the bedrooms, but there’s only two beds right now because we didn’t know we were going to adopt two kids today.” He expected a jab at that, but he could see her watching his soft smile, and he could tell she saw that he was glad to have adopted them both. “One of you can have the bedroom on the right there, and the other can sleep in Arthur and I’s room on the left until we get something else figured out.” 

“Like what?” 

“Well,” Charles said, “we’re still trying to think of things to do, so we don’t know yet.”

She nodded solemnly. “We...we get our own beds?” 

“Of course you do,” Charles said, almost reflexively. He hoped it didn’t come across as rude with how quickly he said it, but she didn’t seem distraught, as Charles had expected, more surprised than anything. 

“Oh.”

 _Have you ever had a bed of your own?_ He wanted to ask. _Or clothes?_

But he didn’t. He knew about orphanages, and he knew that if he were to ask that, it would just rub the facts in Dinah’s face. Besides, they were _going_ to have beds of their own, and they were going to have clothes, and horses, and a dog, and a _family._ A roof over their heads, food in their stomachs. And so much more. 

Everything that he and Arthur could offer them, they would have it. 

He blinked himself back to reality before he got teary eyed, then turned left and led her into a separate hallway. It had a doorway on each side, an empty doorway to the living room on one and the kitchen door on the other. Charles took her left again, to the living room. 

“This is the living room, we have a couple of couches and a table for playing games on. That–” He pointed to a piece of furniture pressed up against the wall. “–is our bookshelf, but we keep all sorts of stuff on there. Do you like to read?”

Dinah scowled, and Charles’s stomach sank. “Don’t know how,” she said, blinking hard. She glanced out the front window and watched Cato and Arthur through the thick glass as they talked. 

“That’s alright. Arthur didn’t learn until he was fifteen.” She almost smiled at that, and Charles let himself relax a bit. “There’s no shame in not knowing how,” he said, a bit quieter, “we’ll be sure to teach you well.” She nodded and stepped toward the bookshelf, her small fingers ghosting along the hand-built shelves. 

After a moment, she turned away as if snapping out of a trance, then looked across the room toward the kitchen door. Charles followed her gaze to the stable style door, the top half open into the kitchen, and nodded in that direction. “Ready to look in there?” He asked, and her response was to head over. “Guess so,” he whispered to himself. 

She pushed open the bottom half of the door with ease, immediately turning to the dining table in the corner and looking over the four chairs sitting around it. 

“We’ll build another chair or two so Nela can come over and visit for dinner,” he said as he watched her look over the simple setup, at the square table, covered with a thin plaid tablecloth, and the bowl of fruit sitting in the center. 

Once she had gotten her fill of the view, she turned toward the appliances. Arthur had cleaned the woodstove the day before, even putting some oil on the smooth parts to add a shine; the sink had nothing in it save for the cloth they used to wash their dishes; and the cabinet was freshly dusted. 

Her eyes flitted over it all, instead landing on the door to the pantry. She pulled open the door and looked around in there before shutting it and turning back to Charles. 

“Can I look in the bedrooms?” She asked. 

“Of course.”

The front door creaked open as they left the kitchen, Colter trotting in ahead of Arthur and Cato. 

“Do y’all want to pick bedrooms?” Arthur asked when he saw Dinah. She shrugged. 

“We were just on our way to look at them,” Charles said, earning a nod. 

“Let’s look together, then, and then you two can choose who is sleeping where.” Arthur swept his hand toward the hallway separating the bedrooms, and the four of them walked down it. “We’ll need to get another wardrobe too, but you can share this one for now, right?” Arthur asked the kids as they entered the spare bedroom. 

Cato and Dinah nodded, both of them making their way over to set their bags in the bottom of the wardrobe. Cato grinned up at the adult men, shifting barefoot on the wood floor. Charles made a note to get him socks as soon as possible, for the calluses on his feet had most definitely been painful blisters not long before. Not to mention his shoes probably smelled like a rotting corpse. 

Socks, food, and a home were what these kids needed. And a few other things too, of course. When they crossed the hall to the slightly larger bedroom, Charles was reminded to retrieve the blankets once night fell. Their room was filled with the trinkets that didn’t line the bookshelf, the door of Arthur’s wardrobe nearly bursting from the clothes. 

“May need to get you another wardrobe while we’re getting the kids a second one,” Charles teased as the two kids inspected the rug made with a rainbow of colors, which had been given to Charles and Arthur years before by a merchant from a far off country as payment for rescuing her horses and wagon after they had been stolen by Lemoyne Raiders. 

Charles watched Cato and Dinah interact, and he noticed how she seemed to be much less tense when he was talking her ear off, how she was much less snippy with him. He understood, for she had no reason to trust him or Arthur yet, but he couldn’t help but feel a selfish yearning for that trust. 

They would earn it, the same way he earned Arthur’s trust and Arthur earned his. 

“Dinah can have this room,” Cato yelled suddenly, pulling Charles from his silent promise. 

“Okay,” Dinah answered, nodding and looking over at the bed as though it were belonging to a king. 

“We just washed the blankets, so you’ll have them by tonight,” Arthur told her as his eyes flicked to the bare mattress. 

She nodded again and Cato turned to them. “Where will you sleep?” He asked. Arthur looked over at Charles. 

“Yeah,” he echoed, “where will we sleep?” 

Charles smiled at them both. “The couches in the living room.”

Arthur hummed and closed his eyes. “Oh, I can already feel the lumbago.” 

Charles gave him a gentle shove, laughing lightly. “You know that the kids having beds is more important than our old backs,” he said, probably a little louder than he should’ve, because both of their children were locked onto their banter. 

Arthur opened his eyes, looking so utterly _in love_ that Charles almost felt like he was going to cry for a moment. “It certainly is,” he agreed, though Charles had already forgotten his own statement. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i honestly have no clue where the plot is going with this i just really love charthur and kids and charthur with kids


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone sorry it’s been a while, i think i’ll do a sort of epilogue chapter for the seventh chapter if i don’t get motivation after i post chapter six because i want to keep writing this family but i um. don’t quite have the drive to write something long

“I don’t think we can both fit on these couches,” Arthur murmured, “they look bigger when you just sit on them.” 

Night had fallen soon after they had shown the kids around the house, showing them how to get a snack, where the extra blankets were, and many other things that they would surely have to repeat in the weeks to come. They were kids; hell, they were _humans,_ there was no way they’d remember everything Arthur and Charles told them on their first day. 

Charles huffed. “You haven't had to sleep on one of them,” he answered. “Remember when you thought you caught cholera and I just barely convinced you to let me stay in the house?” 

Arthur laughed quietly and nudged him. “Yeah, I do. Slide the couches together and you can have them, I’ll spread out our bedrolls here on the rug.” 

Charles blinked at him in the near darkness. They were used to the pitch black of night, but with their new additions to the home, they decided that lighting a few candles would be a good idea so that Cato and Dinah could find their way around if need be. “Arthur–” Charles started to protest, but he was waved off. 

Arthur didn’t even look at him as he spread the first bedroll on the thick pelt rug. “Don’t even try it. I got a bed for twenty years while you were on your own. And don’t think I’m not still mad about you not getting a cot at camp. Dutch had plenty money for everyone to have somewhere comfortable to sleep.”

Charles watched him tiredly, having heard this argument before. “Love, that was almost ten years ago.” 

“Ten years is half as long as I had my own bed,” Arthur answered. He was right, of course, but Charles rolled his eyes nonetheless. It was so long ago, he couldn’t stay bitter. 

“We _did_ share your bed for a while,” Charles mentioned after a moment. “Don’t you remember?” 

Arthur laughed, drawing a quilt over the bedrolls to add padding. “How could I forget? That cot was too small for you or me alone, let alone the both of us.” 

“I know.” Charles stepped toward him, watching his hands smooth out the makeshift bed. “It was nice being so close to you, though.” 

Arthur looked up then, a shiver visibly rolling down his spine. “God, I’m in love with you,” he whispered. 

“I’d sure hope so, we have kids now.” 

Arthur laughed at that, reaching up to wipe at his eyes. “ _Kids._ ” He straightened up, reaching out to grab for Charles’s shoulders. Charles met him halfway, letting Arthur fall against him. He held Arthur close, feeling his every breath rise and fall as they hitched and staggered. 

Charles ran a soothing hand over his back, the union suit scratchy under his calloused palm. “I love you.” He pressed the words into the space just above Arthur’s left eyebrow, earning another shiver. 

“God, Charles, I–” Arthur was going to apologize, Charles knew by the guilty tone and the way he turned his head away, so Charles cut him off with a gentle kiss on the cheek. 

“It’s alright,” he assured. “I understand.” He did, he was familiar with the way Arthur’s emotions could get the best of him. Not in an impulsive way–though he was the slightest touch impulsive–just that he was so easily overwhelmed by them. He felt so _strongly,_ and Charles loved that. “I love you,” he whispered again, settling a hand on the nape of Arthur’s neck. 

Arthur sniffled and nodded. “I love you too. Sorry, sorry, I just-”

“Arthur-”

“I just lost it there for a second.” 

Charles leaned away, wiping the tears off of Arthur’s cheeks with his free hand. “It’s alright,” he repeated. 

“Sometimes it just–it _hits_ me,” Arthur continued, trembling just the slightest bit under Charles’s warm gaze. “I–I love you so _much,_ and I just can’t believe–”

Charles recognized where he was going and pulled him back in tightly, his lips pressing against the lobe of Arthur’s ear. He shushed him, ever so gently, and rubbed at his neck with the hand that was still planted there. “Arthur, sometimes I don’t believe it either, but we’re here, _together._ We made it.” Arthur sighed against him and gripped at his shirt for a brief moment before he was pulling away and wiping at his face. 

“We made it,” he echoed once he looked back at Charles. 

Charles nodded, eyeing him. “We have _kids_ now. We’ve definitely made it.” 

Arthur gave a teary grin and reached for Charles’s hand, placing a kiss on the back once it was granted to him. He then wished Charles a good night and crouched to continue preparing his bed. 

Charles turned away and started moving the couches together, wondering how easy it would be to sneak onto the bedrolls with Arthur once he had fallen asleep. 

* * *

When Charles awoke, a small child was leaning over him, blocking the sunlight streaming in through the window. 

“Cato?” He mumbled, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. He had tried to sleep next to Arthur the night before, but had been evicted from Arthur’s warm embrace by Arthur himself, once he realized that Charles was laying on the floor _._ He spent the rest of the night wedged onto the couches, not cold in the physical sense but most definitely cold in the sense that he missed laying next to Arthur, even for one night. Needless to say, he could’ve slept better. 

“Mister Charles?” Cato asked, and Charles blinked up at him. 

“Yeah?” He blinked a few times, then shook his head. “I–uh–Cato, there’s no need to call me Mister. Just ‘Charles’ is alright.” 

“Oh.” Cato continued peering down at him, then spoke again. “Can I have breakfast?” 

Charles’s heart jolted in his chest as he realized that he’d slept in too late. With the sun already up, a wide awake child asking for food, and no Arthur milling about, it was probably already nine or ten. In his silence, Cato fidgeted. 

“I would ask Arthur, but he’s out with Hushpuppy. I’m sorry I woke you.” 

Charles started to sit, the brief panic subsiding. “No need to be sorry, I’ll make you something to eat.” He clambered out of the canyon he had made, then yawned and stretched as he went to the kitchen. Cato trailed behind him, footfalls quiet. “So,” Charles said as he opened the pantry door, “Hushpuppy?” He glanced back to see a grin plaster itself onto Cato’s face. 

“My horse!” 

Charles smiled, glad the boy was so enthusiastic. “Oh of course,” he drawled, “that’s a really nice name.” 

Somehow, Cato grinned even wider. “Thank you!” 

Charles nodded, wondering where he got the idea for that, and turned back to the pantry. “We’ve got some meat in here, and some canned pineapples, unless you want me to cook some eggs?” 

Cato froze. “I...I don’t know.” 

Charles bit at the inside of his lip, thinking. “You could try a little bit of the meat, maybe?” He offered. “See if you’re hungry for that.” 

“Okay,” Cato agreed. 

Charles dug into the icebox at the back of the pantry, retrieving some venison. Cato tried a few chunks of it, and oregano ended up being his favorite, so Charles split up a few pieces of oregano pork for him to eat. They sat down at the table, Charles making a mental note to keep some extra oregano for cooking. It was neither his nor Arthur’s preferred ingredient, but they kept a little bit on hand, and now they had a reason to keep more. “Do you want anything else? Something sweet?” Charles asked as Cato chewed through the tender pork. 

Cato watched him for a few seconds, then swallowed. He opened his mouth as if to speak, and closed it again. “Like...candy?” He said after a while. 

“Yeah, like candy.” Charles stood and went back to the pantry, taking silent inventory. “I’m not sure how much we have,” he said over his shoulder, “but Arthur really likes the–ah, here they are.” He pulled a small tin of hard candies out, showing the container to Cato. “These are butterscotch, they’re Arthur’s favorite.” He set them on the table and leaned in to whisper. “Take as many as you want.” He winked, and Cato giggled as he reached for the box. He took a small handful and carefully split the pile in half, three and two. The three he shoved into his pocket, and the remainder he kept in the palm of his hand to study. 

“Do you like them?” Cato asked, looking up to where Charles stood. 

“Yeah, but I like peppermints more.” 

Cato nodded, looking back to the candy in his hand. He set one piece down and unwrapped the other, examining the sleek tan candy before popping it into his mouth. He shifted it around for a while before he got antsy and chewed it up, looking at Charles guiltily. 

He laughed gently, smiling at Cato. “It’s alright to chew them, Arthur gets impatient with them too.” 

Cato smiled back, a bit sheepish as the candy crunched between his teeth. 

“Have you seen Dinah this morning?” Charles asked once Cato was finished with the candy, earning a nod. 

“She’s outside.” Charles glanced through the window above the sink and saw Arthur and Dinah out in the pasture next to her stallion. Arthur was brushing the ridge of his back, while Dinah was combing through his tail. 

“Do you want to do that with Hushpuppy?” He turned back to Cato, who was nearly standing on his chair to see out of the window across the room. 

“Can I?” 

Charles nodded toward the door. “Of course, let’s go out there.” 

Cato shot outside and Charles followed him to the pasture, where Arthur greeted them.

“Sleep well, Charles?” He asked as they grew near. Dinah glanced between them, but continued her task silently. 

“No.”

Arthur laughed. “Just long?” 

“Only because you didn’t wake me up.” Cato’s gaze was glued on the two men, flicking back and forth as they bantered. 

“You just looked so peaceful,” Arthur argued, “I couldn’t.” 

“I would’ve been more peaceful if I had been sleeping–” he stopped himself before he could say “next to you,” worried that it may be a little too affectionate to say in front of their freshly adopted children. 

Arthur grinned, showing just a hint of teeth–that was how Charles could tell he was truly amused, his lips would part the slightest bit–then nodded toward the stable. “I took care of the morning chores too, but Colter’s sleeping in today, so he hasn’t eaten yet.” Charles nodded. “Did you bring Cato out to get Hushpuppy?” 

“Cato brought _me_ out, really,” Charles said. “Oh, and he likes oregano, by the way. We should get more.” 

Arthur nodded and went back to brushing the stallion. “I’ll clear a patch in the garden tonight.” Charles, assuming the conversation was over, turned toward the stable and gestured to Cato. 

“Let’s go get Hushpuppy, huh?” 

The boy followed him to the stable doors, then paused at the threshold. 

“What is it?” Charles asked, making a conscious effort to keep his voice neutral and not accidentally confrontational. 

“Why can’t we ride _those_ horses?” Cato asked, pointing out at the pasture. 

“Well,” Charles started, fishing for the right words, “they don’t want to be ridden.” 

“Why not?” 

“They can get scared, sometimes,” Charles explained, slow enough to think over his next words, “so they lash out. They might kick or stomp, and they might hurt you if you try to ride them before they’re ready.” He remembered the first time Arthur got kicked by one of their rescues, while he was brushing her and moved a little too quickly for her liking. Charles flinched inwardly before continuing. “But they never _try_ to hurt anybody. They’re just scared. There’s nothing wrong with that, people are the same way.” 

Cato stared out at the grazing herd, out behind where his sister and father stood, for a few more moments before looking back up to Charles. “I understand.” 

Charles smiled down at him and nodded his head toward the stable. “Want to say hi to one of them? I’ll make sure they stay calm for you.”

Cato’s face broke into a surprised grin. “Oh, can I?” 

“Of course.” Charles led him through the tall doors before cutting off abruptly to the side. “We have a bin of treats for them over here,” he said as Cato continued to trail behind him. They came upon the large tin container a moment later, and Charles pulled the lid off to allow Cato to grab for the apples inside. Upon seeing Cato eye the apple as if considering eating it himself, Charles set the lid back on and waved a hand in the boy’s direction. “There are apples in the house for us to eat,” he said, “you can have a couple once we’re done here.”

Cato nodded, eyes wide as though he believed Charles had read his mind. He chuckled at that thought and led Cato deeper into the stable. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please tell me either in the comments or in my dms/asks on [my tumblr](https://transcharthur.tumblr.com) as to whether or not i should turn this maybe into a series to add drabbles every so often to, or just turn it into a longer fic (my updates will be spread out a lot if i do that because it’s very hard for me to write long stuff) that covers them raising the kids ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ anyways i hope u enjoyed this chapter, i have one more written so chapter six will be in your hands as soon as i figure out what i’m doing

**Author's Note:**

> updates may be a bit sporadic, i want to update as soon as i get the next chapter finished but i definitely wont be too consistent with that...anyways as always my charthur blog is [here](https://transcharthur.tumblr.com)!


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